


matchmaking and other high school tomfoolery

by sunprincewonpil (astrorarepairs)



Category: Day6 (Band), ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Friendship, Light Angst, M/M, day6 are teachers and oneus are the students, just some high school students being chaotic n dumb honestly, lots of side ships if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27692182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrorarepairs/pseuds/sunprincewonpil
Summary: They watched Mr. Kang, their social studies teacher and the music club’s adviser, hand Mr. Kim a can of coffee before patting him on the back. They heard him say, "It must have been tough to break the news."The taller teacher also took the folders their adviser was holding so he could open the coffee can and drink it. “How long has he been standing there?”“I don’t know, but he looked like he was waiting for Mr. Kim.”or:With the competition they were preparing for suddenly cancelled, the performance club decides to preoccupy themselves with a new project: playing cupid between their two teachers.
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K/Kim Wonpil, Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	matchmaking and other high school tomfoolery

**Author's Note:**

> these two groups? together? in a fic? i just had to put my faves together, and of course this is very self-indulgent, like everything else i have ever written. i had this as a wip since young k's webdrama cameo as a teacher, but i only remembered that it existed recently. i had to write day6 as teachers and i made oneus the students although their ages don't differ that much.
> 
>  **warnings:** there will be a liiiitle bit of angst here and some mentions of bullying, but nothing explicit. a member also has a crush on a teacher but nothing more than that.

**Prologue: The Plan** ****

“The Annual Summer Interschool Dance Contest will be cancelled this year. They just informed me an hour ago.”

Gasps filled the room, as synchronized as the performance club’s members' bodies when they were on stage. The six boys, who had just finished practicing for the said competition, looked at each other with raised eyebrows—then the gasps faded and turned into awkward giggling.

“Mr. Kim, is this a prank?”

“I’m sorry, Hwanwoong,” Kim Wonpil, their club adviser, said with a somber tone that took the hope out of the members’ eyes. The laughing stopped. “They told me that they were having internal conflicts about budgeting and organizing.”

“No... No way, we just finalized the choreography,” Hwanwoong whispered, more to himself than for the others to hear. Beside him, Youngjo pulled the younger student into a half hug, and if the mood wasn’t so bleak, the club members (sometimes their adviser, too) wouldn’t have let the chance to tease them just slide by.

“I know you guys were working really hard for your performance… but the competition won’t push through this year. I’m really sorry.”

Geonhak spoke, his deep voice trying to be comforting and gentle, “Mr. Kim, it’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize.”

“But everyone was so excited to aim for the first place. It was supposed to be Dongju's first performance, and it’s the seniors’ last year to participate, too,” Mr. Kim replied, his lips starting to get red with how much he was biting it. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to change their minds.”

“I—it’s alright, ssaem. Maybe there’s going to be a new contest around summer,” Youngjo quickly said, scared that their adviser might burst into tears in front of them for something that he had no control over. His fellow club members were not looking any better, too, shocked by the news and overwhelmed by the fact that their second chance—their chance to recover from last year’s loss—was now gone.

They were never going to be able to hold the trophy that slipped out of their hands because of a 0.5 score gap. Now Youngjo felt like tearing up, too.

Mr. Kim broke the heavy silence that had settled in the room, “Take the week off and rest, okay? You've all been practicing non-stop. I'll contact other advisers if they know of another competition we can join.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kim. Bye-bye!” Keonhee waved his long arms, offering a reassuring smile to their teacher who looked at them with so much sadness and seemed like he was hesitating to leave the room. “We’re okay, really! We’ll leave after we tidy up.”

The door closed behind Mr. Kim and Keonhee let the smile on his face fade. He looked up to the ceiling and blinked rapidly to prevent the tears from streaming out.

"I can't wrap my head around this," Hwanwoong sighed out.

Not being able to bear the sight of his club members looking defeated, Seoho tried to focus on something else, his observant eyes locking on the shadow by the window after Mr. Kim exited the room. “Is that Mr. Kang outside?”

“Huh, you’re right,” Dongju said as he and Seoho poked their heads out of the back doorway. They watched Mr. Kang, their social studies teacher and the music club’s adviser, hand Mr. Kim a can of coffee before patting him on the back. They heard him say, "It must have been tough to break the news."

The taller teacher also took the folders their adviser was holding so he could open the coffee can and drink it. “How long has he been standing there?”

“I don’t know, but he looked like he was waiting for Mr. Kim.”

  
  
  
  


Despite Mr. Kim saying that they can take the week off to rest since they didn’t have to practice until they found another contest to enter, they all ended up in their practice room the next day. The members found Geonhak already lying down on the floor, listening to music on loudspeakers but not dancing or even warming up.

They all laid down beside him like if they were in a sleepover, heads and limbs bumping together as they made a cuddle pile—these were usually reserved for times after practice when they were exhausted and their muscles were screaming at them so they could gain a little strength to be able to go home, but the current situation left them as drained as those times.

"Do you guys ever think about how Mr. Kang is like our second adviser?” Seoho asked, thinking of what he saw the day before and trying to bring the mood up. He wanted his club members to not think about the cancelled competition, even just for a few minutes. "He's always hanging around Mr. Kim and us even though he has his own club to handle.”

Youngjo hummed, "That's true. He helped us backstage during competitions and he taught us all about producing music for our performances."

“They’re close. Before Kim-ssaem locked his Instagram profile I saw a picture of him with Mr. Kang, Mr. Yoon, and Mr. Park-squared when they went on a road trip.” Geonhak elbowed Seoho on the stomach when he mumbled  _ stalker _ . “He just popped up on my follow recommendations, okay? I didn’t look for him!”

Ignoring Seoho who was hacking his lungs out, Dongju shared, "It's funny because I used to think Mr. Kim hated Mr. Kang—he never looked at him when he's here; it's like he always wanted him to just go already. But I guess Mr. Kang's just too annoyingly handsome even for him."

“Oh! Remember that time Mr. Kang dropped his phone and Mr. Kim offered to buy him a new one?” Seoho said after he caught his breath. “He played it off as a joke but that was so suspicious.”

“What? You guys think Mr. Kim has a crush on Mr. Kang?”

“I mean, who  _ doesn’t _ have a crush on Mr. Kang?”

“That’s it!” Hwanwoong shouted, and the members were so startled by his voice that their cuddle pile collapsed. “That’s what we’ll work on now.”

Youngjo turned to him and was caught off guard by the sudden enthusiasm in Hwanwoong's eyes. He had looked so dead and empty yesterday. Among all of them, Hwanwoong was the one who was most affected by the contest getting cancelled—he blamed himself that they had gotten second place last year and he swore to perfect their new choreography so they could win first place next time. “Woongie? What are you talking about?”

“We’re going to get Mr. Kim and Mr. Kang together.”

“No!” Keonhee shrieked. “It sucks that the interschool dance competition was cancelled, but this isn’t what we should be spending our time on!”

“I think they’d be a good match. Mr. Kang has always been kind and fond of Mr. Kim,” Seoho agreed as if he didn't hear Keonhee's outburst, fueling the fire that was Hwanwoong’s misplaced excitement. It was the first instance since yesterday that Seoho saw Hwanwoong smile, and if that influenced what he said—he’d never say it out loud.

Keonhee sat against the practice room mirror and folded his legs so he could rest his head on his knees. “I’m not doing this.”

“You're a key role here, Keonhee. You know a lot about Mr. Kang since he used to be your homeroom teacher.”

“I can’t—I can’t imagine Mr. Kang in a relationship.”

“Don't you want him to be happy? I know you like Mr. Kang but it’s not like it can be more than a crush. It shouldn’t be.”

Keonhee’s face fell and Hwanwoong hugged him as an apology for his direct words. The two had gone over the same topic multiple times but it never became easier for Keonhee to approach it lightly; the other club members could never bring it up like Hwanwoong does, since Keonhee often only opens up to his same-aged friend. “But are you doing this just for fun? Just because we don’t have a competition to prepare for anymore?”

Hwanwoong shook his head. “I’m not. I like and respect them both a lot, you all know that. Without Mr. Kim, I wouldn’t have been able to create this club.”

"Ah, but what if Mr. Kim is straight?"

"He's not. Mr. Kang isn’t either," Dongju answered Seoho immediately.

“And you know this how?”

Their youngest member shrugged. “Birds of the same feather.”

“Didn’t get that explanation but okay. I won't object.”

“What about you, Youngjo-hyung?” Hwanwoong turned to the eldest who had been watching the conversation unfold with a small smile. 

“I think it’s worth a shot.”

Keonhee scoffed. “Are you siding with Hwanwoong just because he’s your boyfriend?” 

“No, that’s not it. I live in the same apartment building as Mr. Kang so we make small talk sometimes while in the elevator—I think he’s single and he does act like he has a crush on Mr. Kim.”

Geonhak, who didn’t say a thing the moment they began talking about the idea, finally talked, “Why would you want to meddle with our teachers’ love lives? Can’t we just leave them be?” 

“What? Scared you won’t be Mr. Kim’s favorite anymore?” Seoho provoked, the smile on his face showing that he knew exactly what he was starting.

The members watched in amusement as Geonhak’s nose kept twitching along with the opening-closing of his mouth—he was the perfect example of the word  _ dumbfounded _ . It was always either Seoho or Dongju (or Hwanwoong, if he was feeling mischievous) that could get that expression out of Geonhak.

“I—I’m not! Shut up—shut the fuck up," he growled out before pushing Seoho to the ground. 

"So, we're doing this?” Hwanwoong asked his members amidst the grunts of the two seniors trying to strangle each other beside him. They were so used to the sight that even Dongju, who thrived on feuds and fights involving others, got bored of watching them. "No further arguments?”

"Guess not. What's the plan?”

**Part 1 - The Delinquent**

_ “Geonhak, you go first and try talking to Mr. Kim about what he thinks of Mr. Kang.” _

_ “Why am I the first one?” _

_ “Because you’re the one with almost zero success rate since you’re so shy. If you fail at this we can revise the plan as early as now.” _

  
  
  
  


Contrary to what his members seemed to think, Geonhak didn’t have a crush on Mr. Kim—definitely not in the same way Keonhee adored Mr. Kang. Instead, Mr. Kim was a role model for Geonhak: someone who he desperately wanted to be like but he didn’t know if it was possible to change himself that much.

Mr. Kim was bright—there was no other adjective that could describe him better. Students and staff alike gravitated to him, Geonhak included. With a wide smile and attentive eyes, Mr. Kim treated everyone with respect. There was never a time that Geonhak or his club members were hesitant to approach Mr. Kim even when it was about a problem that could get them scolded, like when they broke a mirror in the practice room while having a cartwheel race.

Geonhak had always seen himself as someone who was the complete opposite; people found him difficult to approach, always immediately afraid of him without even trying to talk to him even once. And when they do try starting a small conversation, Geonhak somehow messes it up with his shyness and deep voice. Both his hands weren’t enough to count all the bad first impressions he had made because of his inability to speak nicely.

If he could imitate Mr. Kim’s brightness even just a little bit, how much better would his life be?

  
  
  
  


“Kim-ssaem, can I talk to you for a moment?”

"Ah, Geonhak! I was just reading your career plan form."

“Oh, um, that,” the student stuttered out, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he considered running out of the faculty room. But then he didn’t want to suffer Seoho’s endless digs at him since he was expecting him to fail at his task—he would never let him live.

Mr. Kim smiled as he raised the paper in his hand. “I didn’t know your first choice is to become a preschool teacher.”

“I don’t really want to say it out loud.”

“Is it that embarrassing?”

“No! No, ssaem,” Geonhak corrected in haste, afraid that he just offended his adviser. He hated how it was so easy for him to say the wrong things. “I just don’t think I’m suited to be one even though it's what I want to be.”

The year Geonhak transferred to Soonbok High School was also the same year in which Mr. Kim started teaching there. His classmates had looked at him like he was a delinquent, and some of them had already known that he left his old school because of a fight between him and his old friends; students would only look at him from the corner of their eyes, terrified that Geonhak would somehow beat them up just by making eye contact with him. 

But Mr. Kim didn’t treat him any differently and now that he thought about it, he probably told Geonhak to sit beside Seoho because he was the friendliest in their class—in a way that he liked disturbing everyone’s peace equally.

_ “I don’t know why the class is so scared of you,” Seoho said, squinting at Geonhak. “I bet I can beat you in arm wrestling.” _

Geonhak wanted to be a teacher like Mr. Kim, who didn’t have any prejudice and extended kindness to anyone that needed it.

“I thought that way too when I was in college. And it was tough because I was already in my third year of studying when I questioned myself if I could really be a teacher.”

“But you’re great at teaching. You do everything so naturally.”

Mr. Kim shook his head with a laugh, "Do I? It’s not natural, Geonhak. Just a lot of practice and years of experience.”

“Talking out loud in front of a group of people and trying to get my point across clearly to them were big problems for me back then,” his adviser shared. “But my friends helped me out a lot. Actually… Kang-ssaem used to tutor me.”

“Kang-ssaem? Our school’s Mr. Kang?”

All the talk about Geonhak’s desire to be a teacher made him forget why he even talked to Mr. Kim in the first place. He needed to make the conversation about Mr. Kang, so that he won’t have to hear Seoho saying (or singing—it wouldn’t be unusual for him to make new songs out of the blue) “zero success rate” when he returns to the practice room.

He cleared his throat, attempting to sound casual and very much not like he was on a mission. “Were you close during college?”

Mr. Kim nodded, his gaze instinctively falling on a polaroid photo taped above his desk—Geonhak could see five silhouettes against a blue sky and thought that Mr. Kang must be one of them. He wondered if he could also find a photo of them and their friends at Mr. Kang’s cubicle. “We still are. He’s the one who told me there was an open position here.”

Geonhak nodded, a bit absently. He was busy trying to think of how he could gain more information. What could he ask that wasn’t so invasive of his teachers’ personal lives? He couldn’t just straight out ask if Mr. Kim liked Mr. Kang or if he found him attractive.

“Why don't you try being a teacher towards your club members?” Mr. Kim asked. Geonhak internally groaned—he was too slow to think of questions and Mr. Kim had already changed the topic. “Take the lead from time to time and prevent conflicts. Anything a teacher does can be learned and practiced.”

“But I’m the one who gets into squabbles.”

Mr. Kim let out a small  _ ah _ , probably remembering all the times that he had caught Geonhak and Seoho wrestling each other on the practice room floor. “Try being more patient, then. You’ll really need it as a teacher, especially when kids just start screaming at you all together. I’ve never seen you really get angry at your members, so that’s a good start.”

“Ssaem, how can I be patient when Seoho’s always starting a fight intentionally, Dongju takes any chance to bite at my limbs even when I’m not doing anything, and there’s a couple that barely take their hands or eyes off each other even during important meetings?” Geonhak went on a rant. “Keonhee’s okay, though. He’s the most reasonable out of everyone there.”

Geonhak stilled, thinking that he may have gone too far and made it seem like he hated his club members, but Mr. Kim giggled out loud, even causing the other teachers to glance at him.

“You look really happy when you talk about your friends. I’m glad.”

“You gave me these friends,” Geonhak wanted to reply.

Mr. Kim had approached him when he was having difficulty choosing which club to join because he was scared of not fitting in—he invited him to the performance club and told Seoho to show him around the practice room.

_ “Our club has the fewest members compared to others,” Mr. Kim said. “I think you’ll get along with them perfectly, Geonhak.” _

_ Kim Youngjo from Class 11-A waved at him before turning to their teacher. He wasn’t expecting one of the popular kids to be in this small club. “Mr. Kim, is this your student with a deep voice? The one you said might make a good rapper?” _

_ “Woah, your muscles. You can do the lifting in our choreography!” a petite guy told him without introducing himself, and just like that Geonhak had been assigned a role—he had already belonged before he even signed the club form. _

“Thank you, ssaem. I have to go back to class.”

“Geonhak,” Mr. Kim called out before he could walk away from his cubicle. “I think you’d make an amazing teacher.”

**Part 2 - The Loner**

_ “While Geonhak talks to Mr. Kim, Keonhee you go talk to Mr. Kang.” _

_ “Do you need someone to go with you?” _

_ “No, I got this. I’ll be fine.” _

  
  
  
  


In his first year of being in high school, Keonhee learned that kids his age can be so cruel for no reason at all.

He was able to befriend some of his classmates since he was naturally friendly and he didn’t find it difficult to start conversations, but the following week he was getting ignored by them, ending up ostracized in his class. He didn’t know if there were rumors about him or if he did something wrong—they just never talked to him again. Mr. Kang was his homeroom teacher at the time, and even though he was nice to Keonhee and wanted him to have a sense of belongingness in their class, there wasn’t much he could do about his other students choosing to ignore his existence even after talking to them.

Mr. Kang was the only person that made going to school endurable for Keonhee in those three horrible weeks before he had joined the performance club. His teacher had discovered he liked to sing based on his introduction and he had showed Keonhee where they kept the key to the music room so he could use their equipment when the members weren’t present. It was a simple thing, but it had meant everything for Keonhee. 

"Kang-ssaem, are you busy?” Keonhee asked as he shook away things of the past from his head. He always ends up remembering those bad memories when he went to the music club room.

"Nope. What's up, Keonhee?” the teacher asked, glancing at him while locking the room’s door.

"Our club wanted to do something for Mr. Kim as a sign of gratitude, since he’s been working really hard for us and he keeps apologizing about the cancelled summer competition.”

“That’s very sweet of you guys. Mr. Kim is lucky to have you as his club children.”

Keonhee felt lucky to have Mr. Kim and the performance club, too. He thought that the only way he could get to sing in high school was to either join the music club or the choir, but he was hesitant about both clubs because some of his classmates were part of them.

_ “Do you like singing? And dancing? Or maybe rapping?” Yeo Hwanwoong from Class 10-B asked him when he saw Keonhee standing outside the practice room. Mr. Kang had told him about the new club which currently only had two members, none of which were his classmates. “Join the performance club! We get to do both at the same time unlike the dance and music clubs.” _

_ “How do you know I like to sing and dance?” _

_ Hwanwoong grinned at him and shrugged exaggeratedly. Keonhee had heard the rumors surrounding Hwanwoong, but here he was—still smiling and bouncing on his feet. At that moment, Keonhee was already convinced to follow him anywhere. “I don’t know! I just felt it. You look like you have an amazing voice.” _

“But we can’t think of anything yet, ssaem,” Keonhee bluffed. “What do you think Mr. Kim would appreciate?”

“Oh, hmm… He likes a lot of things, and he’ll surely like anything that you guys would give him. He would feel guilty if you decide to buy something for him, though, so I think he’d appreciate a simple gesture more. There was a time that I gave him a hoodie for his birthday and he felt bad because he saw the price online—it took a few days for me to convince him that it was okay to accept it. And I’m glad he did because he looked really cute in it since he looked so tiny. It made me so happy when I saw Wonpillie wear the hoodie during our team building and—” Mr. Kang abruptly cleared his throat. “Anyway, he’ll like anything.”

An expensive hoodie? For a coworker? Either Mr. Kang was secretly a  _ chaebol _ or he had feelings for Mr. Kim, and from the way he kept talking about their adviser in a tone much higher than he uses with his students, it was surely the second one.  _ Cute? Wonpillie? _

“Wow. I should have brought a notebook.”

“I’ve known him for quite a while, that’s all,” Mr. Kang said with a laugh, obviously nervous and embarrassed for having gone on a lovesick ramble.

One side of Keonhee’s brain thought about how Mr. Kang was so cute when talking about Mr. Kim, and the other side wondered how much wider Mr. Kang’s smile could be if he was in a relationship with the person he liked. Happiness was a good look on him.

Keonhee spontaneously decided that he will help him with that—he’ll be a matchmaker for him and Mr. Kim. It was about time he let go of the crush he had on Mr. Kang just because he was the person kindest to him when the entire class had pretended he was invisible.

“Thank you for that, Mr. Kang. I’ll be going now.”

“Oh, Keonhee, are you going to use the music club’s equipment? I can leave the key with you now before I go home.”

“It’s okay, ssaem. I’ll come back next time.”

  
  
  
  


“I have two pieces of news to tell you all. First is that I’m pretty sure Mr. Kang is in love with Mr. Kim, based on our conversation. And second: as of today, I am now officially over Mr. Kang.”

“Keonhee? You are?” Hwanwoong asked quietly before throwing his arms around his best friend. Keonhee buried his face in Hwanwoong’s hair, finding that he wasn’t as sad as he’d expected to be. Someone behind him was patting his head, too, and from the way they couldn't seem to control their hand's strength, it was probably Geonhak. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Hwanwoong had always tried to make him move on from Mr. Kang by introducing him to other boys; when he had first learned who Keonhee’s crush was, he didn’t show revulsion but he also never entertained it. His best friend may seem harshly straightforward at times but Keonhee silently thanked him for that—for always trying to keep him on the ground.

“One day, I’ll find a guy who’s kind, funny, laidback but hardworking, talented in many things, and handsome, cute round cheeks not optional—but around my age.”

Dongju interrupted his emotional moment by saying, “Did you just describe Seoho-hyung? Not sure if the handsome thing applies to him, though.”

“What? No—eww, Ju!”

“Hey that’s rude, I’m right here! And I  _ am _ a handsome guy with cute round cheeks!”

**Part 3 - The Class Clown**

_ “I have the perfect idea on how to set Mr. Kang and Mr. Kim on a date.” _

_ “Perfect? You sure about that?” _

_ “If this plan fails, I am giving you the right to shave my eyebrows.” _

  
  
  
  


It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Mr. Kim and Mr. Kang were supposed to be seated in a different room, just the two of them, while their performance club ate at a table for six in the main part of the restaurant. Seoho had devised this perfect plan after remembering that advisers were allowed to treat their clubs for meals outside the school every quarter or if there were events, and Mr. Kang was like their second adviser anyway; this was their token of appreciation for the teachers who always do the most for their club. And they were supposed to be alone together, having a pseudo-date while Seoho and his members take turns peeking at them once in a while.

So why were Mr. Yoon and Mr. Park-squared in the restaurant with them, too?

“Kim-ssaem, I only reserved seats for eight people…” Seoho reminded their adviser, trying to keep his disappointment subtle. “Six in here and two in the private room.”

“It’s no problem! We can get more tables here since we don’t need a private room. You kids just eat what you want. I’ll pay for it.”

“ _ We _ will pay for it,” Mr. Kang said, ignoring Mr. Kim’s protests.

Mr. Park, the taller one, agreed with Mr. Kang. “Yeah, Wonpil. We tagged along so suddenly anyway.”

“But we wanted to treat our advisers for dinner,” Youngjo mumbled.

“There’s no way we’ll let you kids pay for this. It’s alright.”

“Why are you here, Mr. Yoon?” Keonhee asked his homeroom teacher with a toothy grin—among the six of them, he was the one who could mask sarcasm with a nice, pretty tone that made him seem non-threatening. In last year’s competition, he talked to other teams for some reconnaissance before performing and they naively thought he only wanted to befriend them; Seoho remembered Keonhee coming back to their waiting room with 12 new numbers saved on his phone. 

“We had a faculty meeting in school and we got hungry after so we asked where Wonpil-hyung and Younghyun-hyung were going to eat.” Mr. Yoon scrambled to follow his sentence, “Ah, I mean Kim-ssaem and Kang-ssaem.”

Keonhee clapped his hands together, making the teachers jump. “Haha! I see. How nice, it’s like a party.”

  
  
  
  


“What do we do now?” Hwanwoong asked in a whisper after they were done eating dinner. Seoho barely had any time to enjoy the meat in front of them because he was too busy trying to pull a band aid solution from his brain, but he could barely think of anything that would seem effective. 

Dongju nudged him lightly. “Seoho-hyung? Do you have a Plan B?”

“I think we should just ask Mr. Yoon, Mr. Park, and Mr. Park to leave earlier so Mr. Kim and Mr. Kang can still walk home together,” he replied. “I mean, if we noticed that those two like each other, then maybe they’re aware of it, too. Maybe they’ll help us out.”

“Or can we think of a lie? They might end up revealing our intentions to Mr. Kim and Mr. Kang since they’re all close.”

“Or we can accept the fact that Seoho’s plan failed and shave his eyebrows now,” Geonhak said after Keonhee’s suggestion.

“Wait, shh—”

“Aren’t you guys going home yet?” Mr. Kang asked from the table four feet away from them.

They all sat there with too-wide smiles plastered on their faces, hoping that their teachers didn’t hear their murmuring. Hwanwoong spoke, “We’ll just hang around for a bit, then we’re all going to Seoho-hyung’s place for a sleepover.”

“Alright. Do you mind if we teachers leave now? We’re all a bit tired already—it must be our age,” he said with a hand kneading the muscle between his shoulder and his neck. They could also see Mr. Park supporting his lower back as he stood up from the floor, a heavily accented  _ “aigoo aigoo” _ slipping out from his mouth.

“Sure thing, ssaem. Thank you so much for treating us to a meal!”

The five teachers paid for the bill and said their goodbyes, and the moment they went out the door, Seoho grabbed his bag and pulled Dongju up with him, who grabbed Keonhee’s wrist, who did the same with Geonhak, who slung his arm over Youngjo’s shoulder, who was holding Hwanwoong’s hand. They became a chain of students scrambling to get through the restaurant without bumping into anything. 

“Come on come on come on, let’s go before we lose them.”

  
  
  
  


Seoho did not want his plan to fail not just because he wanted to keep his eyebrows, but also because he did want Mr. Kim to find the love of his life. He felt like he owed his teacher for opening up multiple opportunities for him—because of a science competition Mr. Kim helped him register for, he was eligible for a scholarship in a good college, and that was only one example out of many. 

Mr. Kim was also the one who encouraged him to join the performance club after hearing him belt out songs before class began and after seeing him tumbling in the hallways for no reason at all. It was the first time Seoho saw someone being impressed by things he did for fun instead of laughing—his old teachers and his classmates would usually just shake their heads at him, as if thinking, “Ah, there he goes again, what a weird guy.”

_ “Seoho, are you interested in joining math and science competitions?” _

_ “I’m sorry, ssaem?” Seoho turned around to see if there were any other Seoho’s in the room Mr. Kim might be addressing instead. “Me?” _

_ “You have amazing scores in those subjects. I know you’re busy with the performance club, but just in case you want to, I can give you more information about them.” _

_ “A dancer, a singer, a math and science nerd… isn’t that overkill? I should just do what I can for the club, Mr. Kim.” _

_ Mr. Kim tilted his head with a frown. “Who said being overkill is a bad thing?” _

It was nice to be surrounded by people who didn’t just see him as the class clown, who could laugh at his jokes and go along with his antics while also highly regarding his opinions about their choreography and the songs they use for their performances. Seoho didn’t like being taken seriously all the time either, he felt weird about it, but his members somehow knew which mood he was in without him even saying anything.

There was no way he'd say it to their face—but he really was happy with his club members and their adviser.

  
  
  
  


“Mr. Yoon just parted ways with them. Now it’s just Mr. Kang and Mr. Kim.”

Hwanwoong tried to break away from their huddle, wanting to get nearer to their teachers, but was stopped by Geonhak’s tight grip on his collar. Seoho was suddenly reminded of fathers and their kids wearing those bags with leashes. “Does anyone have super great hearing abilities? I want to know what they’re talking about.”

“That's an invasion of privacy, baby,” Youngjo whispered.

“Not like stalking them is much better, hyung.”

Dongju let out a giggle, “This is fun. I feel like I’m a spy in a movie. Or a scorned wife trying to see if her husband is cheating on her.”

They walked as a chain, quietly as they could (which is not at all), occasionally hiding behind street lights even though it was impossible to cover all six of them, squinting at Mr. Kang and Mr. Kim’s silhouettes in the dark. They seemed to enjoy talking to each other, with Mr. Kim’s hiccup laughs reaching them from more than eight feet away. And sometimes, Mr. Kang would turn to the younger teacher and nudge him playfully or try to pinch his cheeks, but Mr. Kim would always put distance between them again.

Seoho wondered if it was possible that they misread the entire thing—that only Mr. Kang had a crush on Mr. Kim but their adviser didn’t feel the same, or that he already had someone else (if it happened to be one among Mr. Yoon and Mr. Park-squared, it would be like a weekend melodrama on TV). Maybe they should have been preparing a “sorry your crush doesn’t like you back, happens to the best of us” event for Mr. Kang instead. It would be funny to put it on a cake.

“Oh? They’re stopping!” Keonhee cheered. For someone who had a crush on Mr. Kang just a few days ago, he was the one most excited about setting up their teachers together. “Oh, they’re just buying fish bread.”

“Fish bread can be romantic, too. They reach for a piece inside the bag, their hands touch, then boom—they realize they’re in love,” Seoho insisted.

“But they’re not even sharing it, they literally just bought a bag individually.”

“Aaaaand now they’re walking to different paths,” Keonhee narrated as Mr. Kim and Mr. Kang waved to each other before one kept going straight and one turned towards the train station. “Absolutely nothing happened.”

“They didn’t even hug when saying goodbye. Boo, adults are no fun,” Dongju said.

Seoho dropped to a squat with a heavy sigh, bummed out that his plan didn’t magically succeed last minute even though it was doomed right from the start. If only Mr. Yoon, Mr. Park, and Mr. Park didn't suddenly show up to dinner, then maybe their two teachers could have spent a lot of time just talking and then realized they were in love all along and then they’d be smooching by the end of the night. 

Youngjo ruffled his hair. “Don’t beat yourself up about this, Seoho. We all had fun.”

“Yeah, hyung. I never thought I’d like the thrill of following people, but now I know.”

“That’s quite concerning, Ju. But thanks.” 

Seoho was experiencing some mushy feelings, relieved and glad that he had them as friends, until a heavy hand clapped his shoulder.

“Lee Seoho,” Geonhak sang with an unsettling chuckle, causing the hair on Seoho’s arms to rise. “Ready to lose your precious eyebrows?”

**Part 4 - The Prince**

_ “So being sneaky didn’t help our plan at all. I mean, it wasn't my fault Mr. Yoon and Mr. Park-squared ruined it, but still.” _

_ "What do we do next?” _

_ “Now—we try being direct. Your turn, Youngjo-hyung. _ ”

  
  
  
  


"The elevator's not working," Youngjo said to Mr. Kang (Younghyun, when they see each other outside the school) before the elder has even stepped a foot inside the building. It wasn’t actually broken, obviously—Youngjo had been standing in front of the door for 15 minutes to make sure he wouldn’t miss Younghyun and that there wouldn’t be other people in the lobby so he’d be able to set his plan in motion.

"Oh damn. We have to take the stairs to the seventh floor," Younghyun said without even double-checking the elevator and automatically going to the fire exit. 

"It's exercise, hyung. And can I talk to you about something?"

"What is it? Are you having problems in school?” Younghyun added in a strained whisper, "Relationship problems?”

“No no, all good on that end. Every day with Woongie feels like a dream.”

A year ago, Youngjo didn’t expect that he’d be friends with Hwanwoong, let alone be in a relationship with him.

Before joining the club, he already knew who Hwanwoong was—the whole school did, though Youngjo tried helping so it wouldn’t get any worse. Youngjo would often see his junior attached to Mr. Kim’s side and running from one office to another, always talking about the club he wanted to create. Youngjo had followed him one afternoon and signed up for the performance club, curious about what they would do there and curious about Hwanwoong.

Even after Youngjo became a member of the performance club, Hwanwoong was wary of him, no doubt because of his reputation as the school’s “prince”—which sounded and felt fake, especially to Youngjo himself. Hwanwoong got along well with the guys from his batch, Seoho and Geonhak, but he stayed away from Youngjo, only talking to him when it was about the club.

_ “Are you not going to eat lunch?” he asked Hwanwoong, who was sitting in a corner of the practice room. For the entire week, Youngjo had observed that he would stay there during breaks, sometimes alone, sometimes with Keonhee. _

_ “No. I’m not hungry.” _

_ “I’ve never seen you eat. Are you hiding in here? From other people?” _

_ Youngjo flinched when Hwanwoong scowled at him but nevertheless walked closer. “You don’t know anything about me. You’re this school’s beloved prince—you would never know how I feel.” _

_ “Tell me, then,” he said to Hwanwoong as he sat down beside him on the floor and placed a roll of kimbap on the younger’s thigh. “I’ll listen.” _

Youngjo’s breezy laughter was met with Younghyun’s narrowed eyes. “Show-off.”

“Why, hyung, are you not seeing anyone?” he asked.

“If you’re not having relationship problems, is it about school?” Younghyun answered with another question, avoiding the topic. Interesting. It was either Younghyun was tragically single or he was hiding something. 

“My parents don’t agree with what I want to do after graduation. They want me to be a lawyer or a doctor or something with a fancy title.”

“What do  _ you _ want to be in the future?”

“Be a sugar daddy to my boyfriend.”

Younghyun coughed and then fixed him with a look. “You—you know how to joke like that now, huh? To think that the student body sees you as this cool and innocent prince. The girls in my class all went to the clinic to cry when they learned that you were going out with Hwanwoong but you don’t deserve those tears.”

“I’m kidding, hyung. I want to pursue music.” Youngjo explained, “Whenever I make the music we use in our performances, I just never want to stop working on them. Hearing my music and seeing my members sing and dance to it when we’re on stage—it makes me feel so alive.”

“Have your parents seen your performances?”

“No, they were too busy that day to come and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to show them. They’re still against me being in the club even after a year.”

In middle school, Youngjo had always followed his parents’ wishes. He had joined the student council because they said it would look good for him, he maintained high grades, and he stuck with the people that were similar to him. They called him a prince—a two-dimensional perfect role model.

Joining the performance club was the first time he had done something just because he wanted to, and the more he got to know his members, the more he felt as if he had been faking his entire life. Each one of them were so genuinely themselves, moving and doing as they wished with little to no regard to what others might think.

He had quit the student council so he could focus on practices and making music for their club, his grades became average, and his parents weren’t happy when they had learned he was  _ friends _ (the term they insist on using, even after catching them making out on Youngjo’s bed) with the student that got bullied for being gay. 

They were convinced that he was just going through a rebellious phase before he returned to normal, but to Youngjo, it was like he had finally found himself and the place he could just  _ be. _

“I think you should give it a try. They have to at least see your talent in music and the way you enjoy yourself on the stage. There are a lot of good universities offering courses related to music—I can give you their brochures and you show those to your parents, too. And if they still won't budge, I'll talk to them.”

“Thanks, hyung.” Youngjo had been sincere with the concerns he was telling Younghyun about—he really had been troubled with thoughts of what he would do after graduating and he appreciated the elder's offers, but the perfect opening had appeared so he could direct it according to his plan. He should be able to convince Younghyun to make a move by the end of their conversation. "I heard you and Mr. Kim knew each other back in college."

“Yeah, he was my junior. I tutored him for a bit,” he answered with a huff, starting to get exhausted from climbing four flights of stairs.

“Did you two ever have a thing?”

Younghyun trips on a step, both arms shooting out to steady himself with the railing.

“Christ, you’re gonna end up killing me on these stairs,” he grumbled before standing up straight again. “I’m your teacher—you can’t pry into my private life.”

“You were a neighbor hyung to me long before you even went to college. And it's not so private when you're not being subtle, anyway."

"Not being subtle about what?"

"That you’re in love with Mr. Kim. Our club knows all about how you're always finding reasons to help him out even when you don’t need to, and you’re always looking at him like—" Youngjo smiled with his cheeks pushing up the corners of his eyes and his mouth curving into a wide grin, imitating Younghyun. 

“Damn, am I that creepy?”

“Mr. Kim can’t meet your eyes whenever you do that, so maybe you are.”

“How does Wonpil look at me, then?”

“I think Seoho mentioned once that Mr. Kim’s eyes go from lowercase o’s to uppercase O’s when you’re talking to each other.”

“Have you guys noticed if other teachers seem to be interested in Wonpil?”

“No, don’t think so. And he usually just talks about you, Mr. Yoon, and Mr. Park-squared.”

"Am I the only one who helps out your club?"

"Yeah, hyung. That’s why we all know already that you like Mr. Kim.”

“Ha! Finally, the seventh floor!” Younghyun shouted with a heavy exhale as he wiped the sweat on his forehead. “See you in class, Youngjo.”

  
  
  
  


As Youngjo entered his bedroom and looked back on his conversation with Younghyun, he belatedly realized that he was the one giving away information when he should have been the one asking all the questions. There was no doubt now that Younghyun liked Mr. Kim, but he wasn’t sure if his hyung was going to do something about that.

Still, Youngjo couldn’t help but feel like he had just been swindled.

**Part 5 - The Gay Kid**

_ “Dongju has a plan, but we have to first make sure no one gets in the way.” _

_ “You mean Mr. Yoon, Mr. Park, and Mr. Park?” _

_ “Let’s eliminate them once and for all.” _

  
  
  
  


Hwanwoong wanted to get away from the venoms of middle school when he transferred to Soonbok during his freshman year of high school, but some things just ended up following him regardless of how far he ran—especially since they came in the form of videos.

He really shouldn’t have let his ex-boyfriend record their practices of  _ Trouble Maker  _ that usually escalated into something else; the title of the song was a warning that Hwanwoong didn’t heed and his ex decided it was his rightful payback after they broke up to send it to his new school’s dance club. It spread from one club to another, until the next thing Hwanwoong knew, he was known as either “the gay kid” or “the slutty freshman” or a combination of both.

The videos stopped circulating after a week—he thought it was because high schoolers easily got bored of someone else’s pain they found amusing, but later, he learned that it was because someone in small Mr. Park’s class had reported it to him. But that one week was all it took for Hwanwoong to become blacklisted in the dance club, talking about his reputation with their chins held up high as if they weren’t the ones who caused its ruin.

  
  
  
  


“Did we just get kidnapped?” Mr. Park, the taller one who teaches English, said, as he, along with the other Mr. Park and Mr. Yoon, got led to the pitch-dark practice room by Dongju, Keonhee, and Seoho after classes ended. 

“Are we about to get beat up by our own students? Did Wonpil-hyung tell them to do this because we ate the chocolate truffles he brought last week? We couldn’t have known that he made it for Younghyun-hyung.”

Mr. Park, the one with a shaved head, turned to the youngest of their club, and Hwanwoong was impressed with how Dongju didn’t cower under the teacher’s look—stern and cold even when barely visible in the dark. “I thought there was an urgent matter?”

“This  _ is _ urgent, ssaem. It’s about Mr. Kim.”

“Did something happen to Wonpil-hyung?”

Hwanwoong finally revealed himself and turned on the lights as he emerged from the curtains on the other side of the room with Youngjo and Geonhak flanking him, looking like his bodyguards. He stood behind the lectern they borrowed from the debate club and clapped his hands once to get their attention.

He wouldn’t be the performance club founder if he wasn’t into dramatics. Plus, he had to intimidate his teachers as much as possible for this plan to work.

“Thank you for being here, Mr. Yoon, Mr. Park, and Mr. Park—”

“Just call me Jae-ssaem. It’s confusing. Also, isn’t that my club’s lectern?”

“As you all know, we in the performance club are very grateful to Mr. Kim as a whole and also due to personal reasons. He didn’t have to create this club and study about choreography and dance competitions so he could always help us out, but he did. Because of Mr. Kim, we could find happiness on the stage and with each other. We want to return the favor; we only want the best and the purest kind of happiness for him—and this includes his love life.”

During the first few weeks of high school, Hwanwoong usually spent lunchtimes at either the library or the faculty pantry (Mr. Yoon had let him in one time after seeing tear tracks on his face, and like a stray cat, he just kept on coming back); this gave him a lot of opportunities to overhear conversations between staff and he’d been there so often that the teachers just pass on news and gossip without him asking for it, but the most important information that he had gotten from water cooler talks was that Mr. Kim didn’t want to inherit the freshly-resigned Mr. Shin’s traditional games club, which was probably going to be dissolved anyway due to the lack of members. 

_ “I want to dance. I want to dance with a group,” Hwanwoong said as he took the seat in front of Mr. Kim, barely aware that he nudged Mr. Kang away from the chair. “But no one in this school will let me. I want to win competitions to show everyone that I’m not who they think I am.” _

_ “You need me to be your adviser for the new club you want to make?” _

_ “Please, Kim-ssaem. It’s okay if you don’t know stuff about dance and competitions, I’ll do everything. I just need a teacher’s name to put for the adviser position.” _

_ Mr. Kim put down his sandwich, and Hwanwoong would never forget the look in his eyes—it was the first time he’d seen someone look gentle and empathetic, but also determined and fiery. “If we’re going to do this, I’m going to do it properly. Tell me all that you know from joining competitions before. I’ll do my best to help you.” _

“That’s sweet, but where is this speech going?”

“Based on our research, Mr. Kang is deeply in love with Mr. Kim, but he doesn’t seem to have made a move yet. We just want to help him, give him a little push, because we think they’d make each other happy.”

“So what you’re saying is that all of you want to set up your two teachers together?” Mr. Park questioned with an unsmiling face, and Hwanwoong was about to take everything back he said out of fear when he suddenly laughed, loud and booming.

“You crazy kids,” he said with a shake of his head. “Are we wrenches in your plan?”

“Yes,” Seoho immediately answered, probably still thinking about that day he almost lost his eyebrows. He had to bribe Keonhee to distract Geonhak with cuddles as he hid all sharp objects in their household during the sleepover.

“We need to make sure no one here is in love with either Mr. Kim or Mr. Kang and would try to ruin everything.”

Jae-ssaem snorted. “Even if we were—why would we tell you the truth? We could lie, learn about your plan, and  _ then _ sabotage it.”

Shit. Hwanwoong actually hadn’t thought about that. 

“Um, uhh… just tell us the truth.” He had tried to speak in the deepest voice he could project but the stares of the three teachers made him add in a squeak, “Please?”

“And we can lie about our plan, too, ssaem,” Keonhee said, thankfully sounding much more confident (and lowkey aggressive) than Hwanwoong. Keonhee always had his back.

“Alright, you got me there. Well, I’m not in love with either of those two, so don’t worry about me,” the tall teacher yielded with both his hands up.

“Mr. Yoon?”

“Me? I love my hyungs.” The six performance club members narrowed their eyes at him. “Not like that! I only met them a few years ago after I started teaching here and we became really close quickly. Younghyun-hyung is like a brother to me and Wonpil-hyung is like… my mom.”

“Dowoon, noooo, don’t make it weird.”

The youngest teacher glanced at Jae-ssaem with a tilt of his head and a slack jaw, looking like he was wondering what he said wrong. “But they’re perfect for each other, definitely. One hundred percent. I support you guys with your plan.”

“Good, good. We don’t have to write your name in our notebook anymore,” Seoho muttered.

“Did you just imply that you have a Death Note—”

Dongju cut him off and turned to his homeroom teacher. “Mr. Park? How about you?”

“To tell you the truth…”

The club members leaned forward in sync, curious about what Mr. Park was going to say; even the two teachers looked nervous, each gripping Mr. Park’s arms as they stared at him.

Seoho had once brought up the possibility that Mr. Kang’s love for Mr. Kim was one-sided, and that their adviser was already seeing someone else. Hwanwoong hoped that he was wrong—or else everything that they’ve done would all be for naught. 

Mr. Park held his poker face for a minute, with both students and teachers growing more distressed with each second, before flashing a smile. He seemed to find joy in causing mini-heart attacks. “Your faces were so funny.”

Sighs were let out and shoulders were untensed. Yoon-ssaem nudged Mr. Park. “Hyung, don’t be like that.”

“You’re not in the clear yet, Mr. Park,” Youngjo said, ignoring how the teacher was chuckling to himself.

“Ah. I’m not interested in either Mr. Kang or Mr. Kim. Go on and set them up so they’d finally do something about their feelings." He added in a scoff, "You should see them during faculty dinners.”

Hwanwoong breathed out, letting go of his poorly performed threatening persona. “Alright, that’s all we needed to know. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Yoon, Mr. Park, and Mr. Park. We’ll let you go now, sorry for all of this.”

“You guys are adorable. My kids at the debate club just laugh at me whenever I say something about being single,” Jae-ssaem said.

“If we successfully match Mr. Kim and Mr. Kang, you can be our next project, ssaem,” Keonhee offered, eyes sparkling with the thought of playing cupid again even though they weren’t successful with their adviser yet. “Do you have someone you like?”

“Well, I—”

“Kids! Hwanwoong!” 

Mr. Kim burst through the door, panting, while Mr. Kang hovered behind him with a hand on his back. He hit imaginary breaks on his feet, stopping immediately and frowning at the scene in the practice room. “Why are  _ you _ three here? What’s going on? Is someone practicing for a speech contest?”

“Nothing, ssaem! What is it?” Hwanwoong quickly yelped as he jumped down from the lecter. The other club members scattered, trying to hide the fact that they surrounded their teachers in a circle a few seconds earlier.

Their adviser held up a colorful flyer and grinned. “Kang-ssaem found a new competition we can join.”

**Part 6 - The Maknae**

_ “What are you planning, Dongju?” _

_ “Something. It’ll definitely work.” _

_ “Well, as long as it’s not illegal, I guess.” _

  
  
  
  


Dongju’s plan was actually very simple—he just needed to observe a lot, take notes of specific things, then apply that to a piece of paper. He had to take matters into his own hands because all of his hyungs were busy preparing again for the contest; he was learning choreography and practicing, too, but he didn’t want their project to just be abandoned, especially since they were so close to the finish line. With Mr. Yoon and Mr. Park-squared out of the way and fully supportive, all they have to do is give the final push.

Not that he was deeply invested in their teachers’ love lives. He wasn’t really doing this for Mr. Kim’s and Mr. Kang’s sakes, although it would be great to see them stop their shy flirting through nudges and giggles whenever they were doing something. Dongju found them worse than middle schoolers with their first crushes.

He was doing this for his members, who still wanted to see their teachers end up together despite having their priorities switched, but he could imagine the pure satisfaction on their faces when they finally succeed in their plan. And Dongju wanted to see them happy—that  _ is _ what brought him to the performance club, after all.

_ “Where’s this team from again?” Dongju asked his twin brother, pointing at the five boys who were clutching a plaque and patting each other on their backs. It was painful to watch them holding back their tears, but he couldn’t look away. _

_ “They’re Soonbok High School’s new performance club. I think they’re the first ones to sing while dancing in this competition.” _

_ He nodded at Dongmyeong, still unable to direct his eyes anywhere else. “They were amazing—I can’t believe they didn’t win first place. They deserved that trophy the most.” _

“Dongju, what are you so focused on? Homework?” Keonhee asked as he sat down beside him at their lunch table.

He glanced up. All of the performance club members were already present and eating—Hwanwoong and Youngjo sharing a lunchbox, Geonhak and Seoho arguing about math formulas while eating sandwiches—but he was too engrossed in his task to notice. It was a miracle that Hwanwoong was spending the break in the cafeteria rather than obsessing over their choreography in the practice room. “I’m writing a letter.”

“An apology letter? Did you do something in class?”

“Not that, hyung.” Hwanwoong opened his mouth to speak but Dongju waved a hand, which he slapped away. “Shh, I’m trying to channel my inner Mr. Kang.”

Seoho, who was sitting on his left side, leaned in to inspect what he was writing, and Dongju had to shove him back a little to breathe. The elder was the least touchy and clingy in their club, but like everyone else, he didn’t know what personal space meant.

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

Dongju met Seoho’s crescent eyes with a grin. “Pretending to be Mr. Kang and writing an invitation letter to Mr. Kim for a dinner date this weekend? And doing vice versa so that Mr. Kang also shows up?”

“But how do you know they’re both free this weekend and that they’ll go?”

“I peeked at their planners when they were both in the practice room with you guys.”

“So that’s why you were late that day. Nice one, Ju.”

Youngjo, who finally got curious as well, craned his neck over Hwanwoong’s shoulder to look at the papers. “You really got their handwriting accurately.”

“I know. Impressive, aren’t I?” Dongju said, admiring his own work. It took less than four days to practice their teachers’ penmanships but it did almost cost him a few failed quizzes because he was staring at their writing instead of listening to the lesson.

“We’re being bad influences on you,” the eldest went on.

“What? No way, hyung.”

Dongju didn’t say anything more, but he thought about how he initially joined the club as support—he offered to help them in managing schedules, running errands, and filing whatever paperwork was needed for contests—but the hyungs and Mr. Kim encouraged him to try performing, and he discovered a side of himself that was waiting to be uncovered. 

Words of gratitude couldn’t seem to leave his mouth just yet, though.

“Let me see what you’ve got written.” Keonhee, their retired Mr. Kang expert said, “Change Wonpil to Wonpillie—Mr. Kang calls him that.”

“Should we put something a bit more romantic? Like a line from a poem? I know a few that we can use.” Geonhak’s suggestion was immediately shot down with four pairs of squinted eyes and one pair of raised eyebrows from Seoho. Dongju knew that face: it was his “I’m saving this for later so I can tease the shit out of you” look and he could practically hear his cackling already.

“Then Mr. Kim might think it’s just a joke,” Hwanwoong explained.

Geonhak scratched at his neck and mumbled, “Right.” 

“I guess just put a little doodle—he sometimes does that on blackboards when he’s waiting for us to finish our exams,” Keonhee said, reaching over the table to poke Geonhak on the nose and making him smile again. Dongju filed that interaction into a folder in his brain.

“He  _ does _ do that, now that you mention it. He likes drawing a rabbit and a fox, I just don’t know what characters they are specifically. I don’t think they’re from LINE or Kakao. Maybe ARTBOX?”

“If we get it wrong it will look suspicious. I’ll just draw a little smiley.”

Despite Seoho and Keonhee pretty much breathing down his neck with how close they were as they monitored Dongju’s task, he was able to finish it before the school bell rang and without snapping at someone trying to intervene. The performance club members gave little claps when he finally put down his pen.

“All done. Now I just need a distraction.”

  
  
  
  


“Kim-ssaem,” Dongju called out as he knocked on their adviser’s cubicle. “Hwanwoong-hyung was looking for you in the practice room.”

“Is there a problem?”

“I think there’s a fight happening. He sent me here to get you.”

“Oh no,” Mr. Kim groaned, sprinting towards the exit, but not before acknowledging Dongju. Even in distress, Mr. Kim was still kind and courteous. “Thanks, Dongju. I’ll be going now.”

It was difficult to evade guilt as Dongju watched Mr. Kim run out of the faculty room, murmuring under his breath, too overcome with worry that he even forgot to bring his phone with him. Dongju hoped that his members were putting on a convincing show and reminded himself to act fast.

Mr. Kim’s planner was standing beside his pen holders and mini LEGO piano. Right where Dongju knew it was going to be.

"Dongju? Are you waiting for Kim-ssaem?"

He slammed a hand on the table to hide the planner, turning around with as much calmness as he could fake. According to his observations, Mr. Kang should’ve been in the music club room 15 minutes ago—of all days to be late, he picked this one. “Yes, ssaem.”

“I think I just saw him leave less than a minute ago though?”

“Ah, really? It’s okay, I’ll wait here.”

Mr. Kang seemed like he wanted to ask more questions, but nevertheless just nodded. “Alright.”

“Alright,” he repeated, keeping his arm waving and his smile wide as the teacher left the faculty room. “Bye, Mr. Kang.”

The moment the door shut behind Mr. Kang, Dongju grabbed Mr. Kim’s planner, opening it with a renewed sense of panic, and took out the letter he needed to insert.

He frowned.

Between the pages of Mr. Kim’s planner was a piece of sticky note, the message on it brief and signed with a drawing of a fox and a rabbit, little hearts surrounding them.

_ Piri, _

_ Sunday, 7pm at Byulbit. Don’t forget! I’m actually going to cry if you do. Haha _

_ \- YH _

**Part Seven: The Teachers**

"This sure is a unique way to spend our third anniversary," Younghyun said around a mouthful of nuts.

"Pretending this is our first date while our students are obviously watching us from the Sulbing in front of the restaurant?” Wonpil glanced out the window and bit back a laugh when he saw six heads rapidly look at the menu as if it was their test papers. “Yep. Unique.”

The performance club members were sitting by three’s on two couches, trying to cover their faces with their bags (Wonpil could recognize Seoho’s favorite frog bag anywhere) and—table napkins? With Hwanwoong and Youngjo cuddled up together, Keonhee pressing his cheeks against the glass window, Dongju using binoculars, and Geonhak trying to take away the said binoculars, the teachers had no doubt that those were their students. Wonpil figured that he must have dropped Younghyun’s note somewhere in the practice room and the members ended up seeing it.

Wonpil and Younghyun shook their heads, endeared and unimpressed at the same time. "They really don't know how to be subtle."

“The kids, I’m not surprised. It's not their first time following us. But why are those three in the table behind them, too?” Wonpil grumbled, pertaining to Dowoon, Jae, and Sungjin, who were wearing horrible disguises made up of caps, sunglasses, and scarves—they looked like they were about to rob a bank. 

"Bet they’re in cahoots with the kids. I never talked to anyone about our date."

“Same here.” Wonpil worried his bottom lip before saying, “Should we just have told them the truth?”

“I think hiding it was a good call. It’s better to pretend that we got together after you started teaching in the school—if word got out, people might think you only got that job because of me. But if you want to tell the truth, I’ll be okay with it,” Younghyun explained, and Wonpil nodded in understanding. Even if they did disclose only to their closest teacher friends that they have been together for three years, it could still somehow leak because the school was one big gossip playground. 

There were interesting kinds of rumors, like students saying they can ace exams if they're able to rub Sungjin's shaved head; but there were rumors that could potentially ruin lives—like the ones that spread about Hwanwoong. Either way, Wonpil didn't want anything to happen that could hurt Younghyun.

“No, you’re right. And it’s kinda fun like this, too.”

"Okay. Just let me know if you ever change your mind."

Younghyun smiled at him and Wonpil took a moment to stare at his boyfriend fondly, unabashedly, the way he can’t while they’re working. When they’re together in school, he couldn’t help feeling a slight panic every time Younghyun would look at him or offer to help with the performance club—it was probably why his six kids had caught on to  _ something _ , though it was a bit different from what they were thinking. Younghyun had once asked if he wanted him to stop coming to the club, but Wonpil knew that he liked the members as much as he did. He couldn’t take that away from him.

And Wonpil hadn’t revealed this to Younghyun yet, but he always thought that there was something special about the happiness he experiences whenever they were both with the club—it was as if they had a makeshift family of their own. That was a conversation for later, for when he felt a bit more sure with what he was feeling.

“Why are they watching us so intently? We’re not even doing anything,” Younghyun commented, side-eyeing the window.

Wonpil whispered to Younghyun even though the audience across the street wouldn’t be able to hear it in normal volume, "Hyung, hold my hand. I want to see their reaction."

"I was going to even if you didn't comand me."

"I didn't  _ command— _ " Younghyun reached for Wonpil’s hand with both of his, then pressed his lips to knuckles, not pulling away until Wonpil yanked his hand. “I—I said hold!”

After he recovered from the shock, Wonpil instinctively looked outside the window, where chaos had fallen. The students were slapping each other on the thigh, squeezing tight on the couch as they all leaned towards the window, and handing each other money; while Sungjin, Jae, and Dowoon lowered their sunglasses from their eyes as they gaped at them.

Body shaking with sustained laughter, Younghyun said, “Oh my god. I think I heard Keonhee’s shriek from here.” 

Wonpil took out his phone from his pocket and started to type a message to the performance club group chat—he knew just what to do in order to make their audience lose their shit even more.

_ Why don’t you guys take a rest or practice your performance instead of spying on your teachers’ date? _

The two teachers watched as all six members read the message (in sync, as how they were on and off the stage) then whipped their heads to look at them. Younghyun and Wonpil sent them a little wave with their hands. 

“Happy anniversary, love,” Younghyun said as he brought his glass up, smiling from how the students clambered to leave the cafe, pushing each other and trying to fit six people in the narrow exit all at once—Hwanwoong separated from the group to relay the message to Sungjin, Jae, and Dowoon, who only removed their terrible disguises and leaned back on the couch. With a roll of eyes, Younghyun made a shooing motion with his head.

Wonpil ignored their friends and took one more look at his—their kids, letting out a soft chuckle, before clinking their glasses together. “Happy anniversary.”

**Author's Note:**

> you finished it! congrats! and thank you! 
> 
> kudos and comments would be very much appreciated. even if u thought it was dumb, go and tell me in a comment!
> 
> twt: [@utopiadays](https://twitter.com/utopiadays)


End file.
